


How the Sun Shall Shine

by eternalbreath



Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-21
Updated: 2008-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:52:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalbreath/pseuds/eternalbreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where are your clothes?" Gippal asked, then said, "You know what, never mind, dumb question, who cares, forget I said anything."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Sun Shall Shine

The sun turned the camp at the heart of Bikanel into a bleached-out, too-bright ghost town from midday to the afternoon and Baralai hated it. It was nothing like the warm comfort of a Bevelle sun, a gentle heat that glided over everything instead of the kind that beat on every person and object available like fists of fire. He drank his weight in water and waited for Gippal to return from the dig site, currently in the middle of a sandstorm. That left Baralai trapped at camp with only one panicked, garbled message between him dropping everything and his rush to Bikanel. Gippal's crew was afraid of him and he had already scared one of them enough with his demands for answers that the worker actively avoided him after an hour, darting around the corners of tents whenever he saw Baralai coming.

Baralai had a sneaking suspicion that dating Gippal was going to give him heart palpitations, but at least his genes saved him from gray hair. He gave up and crashed Gippal's tent, stripped off most of his clothes and slept through the heat of the afternoon, more out of desperation than exhaustion. He only woke when he was pounced.

"How are you _sleeping_?" Gippal asked. Baralai blinked at him, still caught in nonsense dreams and didn't respond, so Gippal's solution was to kiss him, tip his head back and dive in. Baralai tasted the dirty air and felt the grit of sand when Gippal nudged his mouth open, his tongue sliding slow and filthy across Baralai's bottom lip. Baralai debated pushing him away to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, scaring Baralai out of his mind, but the truth was that the only answer that mattered was given and when Gippal slid his dirty, dry hands under Baralai's clothes and sucked on his lip.

"Wake up." Gippal pulled away and whined.

"I'm up and you should know," Baralai said. "You're laying on me."

"Where are your clothes?" Gippal asked, then said, "You know what, never mind, dumb question, who cares, forget I said anything." He shoved at the waist of Baralai's pants, tugged them down and wrapped one hand around Baralai's cock, fast and determined. "We found—you won't even believe what we found, your archaeologists are going to piss themselves."

"So this is celebratory sex?" Baralai asked in a breathy moan and pulled off Gippal's shirt. His fingers faltered as he saw the bruises, and Gippal winced so suddenly that Baralai yanked his hands back, even though he had barely touched them.

"They're just bruises," Gippal said. He linked one of his hands with Baralai's and pressed his knuckles back to soft covers. "To answer your question, this is celebratory sex, but it's and less 'we found a huge underground city full of spheres' and more 'fuck, I'm glad I didn't die falling into a cave'. Or maybe it could be both."

Baralai pulled his hand away and tried to sit up, but gave up after a few seconds because Gippal was nothing if not persistent—he was already sliding his hips forward in an attempt to distract Baralai from the point. "You _fell_ into a _cave_?"

"Just a small one," Gippal said. He rolled his eyes at Baralai's look. "Or a really big one. I had a line, it was okay, I just crashed into the wall. A little."

Baralai ran a finger over a circle shaped bruise right under Gippal's collarbone. "A little. I can tell."

"We're faced with a choice," Gippal said. He kissed Baralai's jaw, his cheek scratchy against smooth skin. "You can nag me now and kill the mood or we can have sex and you can nag me later."

Baralai laughed and let Gippal kiss him. Kissing Gippal was as easy as panicking about Gippal killing himself with insane spelunking expeditions and just as pulse threatening; too easy. Baralai slid right in with no problem and he was thankful for the warmth of Gippal's skin under his hands. Baralai was glad he got to kiss more than freak out, because if it was the other way around he knew Gippal wouldn't need a death wish because Baralai would strangle him himself.

Gippal had never failed to come back from the edge just like this, had never failed to return and press sloppy, wet kisses on Baralai's neck and scratch his nipples with the three-day shadow and lick his hand, dirt and all, just so he have better friction to watch Baralai squirm. Gippal was lucky Baralai trusted him so much, with his heart and the key to his rooms in Bevelle and also with his own life. Otherwise, Baralai supposed he would keep Gippal chained up, preferably in a place he would never, ever kill himself with sharp rocks or long falls.

Gippal shifted and curved his palms around Baralai's legs and lifted him up just enough to align their hips, old, familiar movements so they could rock together, sticky skin against sticky skin, brushing together like gentle waves on fragile, early-morning sand left by the tide and just as gritty with all the dirt Gippal brought in with him. Gippal linked one of his hands with Baralai's once more and licked at his mouth, tasting more like himself and less like dust and air from the past. Gippal plied him with deep kisses, rich and dirty and full of promise. His hand was methodical with its strokes and Baralai thought before he came all over both of them and Gippal followed, laughing at him, that sometimes, Gippal was just a sexual show-off.

"I'm _definitely_ going to risk my life more," Gippal whispered into his ear. The light had faded outside, night creeping up on them like a fiend on the prowl, sneaky and silent. He ignored Baralai's grunt and rolled them over and tucked his face under Baralai's jaw. "Almost die, hot sex. Injuries, hot sex."

"What if I promised hot sex for all the risks you don't take?" Baralai suggested, twisting his arm to tangle his fingers into the damp hair on Gippal's neck. "A quiet day at Djose, hot sex? A pile of paperwork Isaaru really needs you to finish, hot sex?"

"I'm open to negotiations," Gippal replied, and pressed a soft, whisper-light kiss to the corner of Baralai's mouth. Baralai felt his smile, a warm, curving reassurance. Baralai knew he would spend years and years panicking over Gippal risking his life for spheres and history and knowledge and cool new machina toys, but he had lived too long under the threat of daily loss and disaster to really be serious about taking away the freedom to enjoy living without it for off-chances and what-if's.

The waning light through the canvas warmed his face and Gippal snuggled closer, tucked into his side, his own personal sun that he found himself running circles around just for the chance to touch. Gippal's fingers traced Al Bhed letters into Baralai's palm, pressing eight times and Baralai smiled before rolling, the happy surprise on Gippal's face worth everything Baralai had in the world.

"My turn," he said, and leaned down to kiss Gippal again.


End file.
